And Would Suffice
by Silly Little Sparrow
Summary: Hermione becomes a spy; Lucius makes some decisions. H/L, H/S
1. Pieces are Drawn

Disclaimer: HP isn't mine.

A/N: To anyone who is reading _Fear in a Handful of Dust_: I am still continuing the story, but need a bit of a break. And I have too many plots running through my head to just focus on one story right now. Hope you enjoy this one!

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The four poster bed had never seemed more welcoming than it did now. Hermione Granger collapsed gratefully onto the maroon duvet, cradling her wand close. It was nearing dawn already; Hermione had lost track of time in the Library, as was often her wont. Madam Pince hadn't been pleased to leave a student alone with precious books earlier that evening, but she'd grudgingly allowed Hermione her space and time.

Being Head Girl had serious advantages, Hermione mused. She had free rein of the castle. Funny that she wasn't so keen as Harry to wander about the stone corridors at midnight, yet she was the one with special privileges. All she wanted was her books. The heavy leathern tomes had always been her friends when she had no others...but now, her accumulation of knowledge had a clear, specific purpose.

Hermione Granger was going to become a Death Eater.

Or, more precisely, she had studied so intensely and kept such meticulous notes all summer because Hermione Granger was going to become a spy. She needed all the information her brain could withstand.

She'd gone to Snape, a former spy himself, just a week shy of the new term. She'd informed him coolly of her plan, and, though leaving out the finer details, she had been utterly frank. When she was finished speaking, Hermione had smoothed her robes and waited for her professor to react. He'd been scornful initially, then mocking, then finally furious when he realized her stubbornness was as deeply-rooted as his own. Hermione maintained her composure through it all, though allowing herself a grim smile when the anger on Snape's features finally faded to resignation.

Professor Snape was beginning to grow on her, she thought drowsily, slipping under the heavy coverlets. _He's a foul sarcastic man. But a good ally._ She absently stowed her wand up her sleeve. _Soon_, was Hermione's last coherent thought, before she rolled over and fell into a fast dreamless sleep.

The next morning dawned gray and drizzly; Autumn was fast approaching. Hermione awoke groggy, but by the time she slipped into her shower, she was already doing exercises to jumpstart her brain. 'Wiggenweld Potion...let's see. Horklump juice, one pint. Flobberworm mucus, seven Chizpurfle fangs, honeywater...' A relatively simple potion-they'd brewed it First Year-but it wouldn't do to forget even one recipe.

After completing her morning ablutions, Hermione settled down for her customary twenty-minute morning meditation. It was her form of Occlumency: she had used part of last summer to build a fortress in her mind, practicing so intently and thoroughly that she could see clearly the most minuscule details. Once she had mentally constructed the foundation, Hermione had worked ceaselessly to create a true palace of memory, attaching her thoughts, emotions, and beliefs to specific paintings, halls, rooms, and objects within that fortress, hiding her secrets quietly in dark safe places. It became easier with time, and by now Hermione was so adept that she sank light as a feather into her meditation.

The minutes passed easily, and Hermione felt far better when she rose from her position by the window. She donned her 'Harmless Well-Meaning Hermione' mask, and joined Harry and Ron at breakfast, laughing and teasing playfully, glowing and carefree on the outside. But Hermione's heart clenched painfully as she watched Ron spear an enormous sausage and stuff half of it into his mouth, and heard Harry snorting in laughter next to her. These boys were her rocks, her joy, her exasperation and heroes. She would do anything for them.

oOo

Severus Snape eyed the small group of NEWT-level Seventh Years chopping ingredients gloomily. They weren't as much fun at this age-harder to intimidate than the smaller ones, and their essays took longer to grade. Though if he were honest with himself, he actually enjoyed reading up on the students' research; they were all at least mildly intelligent, and a select few made honestly brilliant proposals.

He began pacing about the room, winding about steaming cauldrons containing various potions. Arion Caelius, one of his Slytherins, had chosen to study poisons and antidotes, and had already discovered three previously unknown uses for hemlock. The quiet Ravenclaw Ellen Spordle was working on a potion with the same effect as an Obliviate spell, but for specific time periods only. And perhaps the most genius of any in that group, Hermione Granger-

No. He wouldn't think about her; it would only bring a fury that would look suspicious.

Except it was difficult not to think about something that was trying to catch his eye.

He glared at her. Hermione returned with a small wink. Then she raised a single holly leaf, and let it flutter slowly into her potion. Severus stared, motionless, his thoughts forming like molasses. Holly and glitterbug eyes, when mixed, could cause only-

BOOM!

Her cauldron exploded, wafting thick smoke through the entire room. Eyes streaming, the professor waved his wand to disperse the steam, revealing a bright pink Miss Granger, and a group of scowling students. 'Oops," the witch said into the silence.

'Detention tonight at 8 o'clock, Miss Granger!' Severus snapped. He swept his gaze across the assembled adolescents, all looking frazzled. He decided a small allowance wouldn't harm his fearsome reputation. 'Out, all of you. Dismissed! And don't forget your updates need to be in my hands by Wednesday, no later than three in the afternoon.' Then, casting a stasis charm on the remaining potions, he shot one last acid look at Miss Granger's back, who had smirked at him as she headed out the door.

Damn Gryffindor women and their smirks.

That evening, a knock on his office door came promptly at eight. Severus, who had been bent over a stack of Third Year essays on the properties of bezoars, scowled. 'Enter,' he said curtly.

Miss Granger appeared, looking excited, but controlled. She began without preamble. 'It's time, Professor Snape.'

He feigned disinterest. 'Well? What's your big idea?'

Hermione moved forward. 'Let's pretend you offered me a seat, shall we?' Without waiting for an answer, she sank onto one of the spindly chairs he seemed to favor. 'I am going to send Lucius Malfoy a letter. I've already drafted it here.' She passed him an unsealed roll of parchment.

Severus accepted the scroll without opening it. 'Why not start with Draco? You could use him as a buffer initially.'

'That's precisely what I want to avoid. I need Lucius to know I'm serious. Besides,' Hermione added, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. 'Draco isn't crafty enough to realize the benefits of being friends with Mudblood Hermione. It would be too much work, and look suspicious to other students. I'll have to go through Lucius to get to Draco, I think.'

'As you wish,' said Severus, flinching slightly at the word 'Mudblood'. He stood, nonchalance forgotten. 'You really mean to go through with this, then, Miss Granger?' He asked, piercing her with his gaze. 'No second thoughts?'

'No.'

He sighed. 'I didn't think so. Very well.'

Severus Snape took his time reading the letter. He'd hoped to make the witch uncomfortable, but she seemed perfectly at ease on her chair. He carded long fingers through his hair. It was very good. Maybe enough to gain her an interview with the Dark Lord. He was even-dare he think it?-impressed. It wouldn't do to let Miss Granger know that, of course, so he glanced up.

'It isn't dreadful, Miss Granger. They might not even kill you straight off.' Said Severus in his most biting tones.

But Miss Granger smiled as though he'd complimented the eloquence of her prose. 'Gratitude, Professor. I'll send it off this evening.' She rose smoothly, and gathered her robes about her. 'I shall keep you posted. Good night.' Hermione retrieved the letter swiftly, stowing it in her sleeve.

And she sailed to the door with that exasperatingly smug smile lighting her features.

'Luck,' Severus called grumpily, swiveling back to his paperwork.

oOo

Lucius ran his fingers lightly over the books in the Malfoy Library. There were thousands and thousands of them. Even he, who'd devoured books like candy since boyhood, hadn't made his way through a tenth of the collection. _Hmm_...he mused. Should he try out _Foundations of Stone: Salazar Slytherin's Records of Hogwarts_, or Madam Regula's _Riots & Roses_? Deciding on the former, He pulled the heavy tome from its place, blowing a sheen of dust off the cover.

He had just reclined in his favorite armchair overlooking the East Gardens when his house elf, Dorry appeared with a letter and a bow. Lucius Malfoy's fingers didn't brush the silver platter when he plucked the letter up. He turned it over. A triskelion seal, interesting. He dismissed the elf with a wave of his hand, still examining the scroll curiously.

oOo

_Hermione J. Granger, Hogwarts Student, to Lord Lucius Malfoy, Order of Salazar, Keeper of the Nine Keys:_

_I extend to you my apologies for the abruptness of this letter, though I hope you, Lord Malfoy, will grant me pardon once you have read what I propose. _

_You and I were natural enemies, belonging to opposing factions, and in the past many harsh words have been exchanged by us both. I can only excuse myself on the grounds of my youth; I, being innocent and malleable, believed without question the lies of certain powerful witches and wizards. I have done much reading and thinking, and grown past this weakness. We cannot agree in all respects-though how many intelligent people do? However, I have come to see the hypocrisy of the so-named Light side, the unjustices and the ill-masked cruelties. Why should one type of magic be so forbidden? The Dark Arts, I have come to understand, are not evil; they are simply another branch of magic to be studied and perfected, like any other. I trust you agree in this matter._

_Now, on to my proposal. The will has come upon me to aid the Dark Lord in his cause for the rights of Dark wizards. It seems only just. The Dark Army would greatly benefit from this, specifically due to the information I could bring, as well as other assets I will not reveal here. Will you meet with me, Lord Malfoy? There are many questions I would ask of you, and, I hope, many questions you wish to ask of me. _

_I __most eagerly __await your reply. _

_Hermione J. Granger_

_

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_Thanks for reading! Please, review if you liked it and want more :)

~Vanya


	2. The Dance Begins

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! The more I understand what people like/dislike, the faster I will update :)

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Hermione had received an owl with a letter bearing the Malfoy Crest over lunch that Friday, and she was anxious to read it, so she had said a quick goodbye to Harry and Ron, who were too used to her sneaking off to study at odd hours to pay much attention. When Hermione peeked in to the Hogwarts Library, leaning slightly to one side from the weight of her leather bookbag, she sighed in dismay. The Seventh Years had been loaded with homework their first weekend back, and the Library was thick with grim-faced students checking out heavy stacks of books. Not an ounce of privacy was to be had there. Now she had to climb all the way up to her Head Girl's room, read the letter, and-hopefully-send a reply in less than half an hour. Well, if Hermione was late, she might be able to use her tardiness to her advantage. On the other hand, if Hermione managed to be on time, that was all the better.

Muffling a groan, Hermione raced up the winding staircases, automatically jumping the trick steps, and flew into her room. She hurriedly dropped her bag and books before snatching the letter, still panting from her mad dash. Then she slowly sank to her desk, and forced herself to calmly detach the seal and unroll the parchment.

The writing was slightly slanted and gracefully looped, as though Lucius Malfoy had begun practicing calligraphy at a young age. Which, Hermione reminded herself, was probably the case among Pureblood wizards and witches. The letter read:

* * *

_Lord Lucius A. Malfoy, Order of Salazar, Keeper of the Nine Keys, to __Hermione J. Granger, Hogwarts Student__:_

_Indeed, Miss Granger, your letter came as a great surprise to me; as that is quite a rare condition to find me, Lucius Malfoy in, congratulations are in order._

_Despite my confusion-and, I must add, suspicion-I am cautiously pleased that your considerable intelligence has led you to the correct path. I myself have long despaired of the hypocrisy of Light wizards, and their stubborn, constant refusal to accept Dark Magic as a valid and true force. Because of your apparent willingness to put aside former frictions, I shall gladly endeavor for the sake of this alliance to overlook various differences in other beliefs we each may share. _

_The advantages you could bring to the Dark Lord's cause seem quite clear. I share your eagerness to arrange a meeting, as we have much to discuss. Why not come by my Manor for tea this Satuday? I can have Draco bring you along. _

_I will await your reply shortly._

_Lucius A. Malfoy_

oOo

Hermione let out a long slow breath. While the impeccable politeness of Lucius Malfoy's letter and his obvious willingness to consider her proposal gave Hermione an iota of hope, she was leery of meeting the man in his own home. Suppose Lucius decided that taking her prisoner would be more advantageous to his cause than an alliance? No...it wouldn't do. Hermione would need to take some precautions while taking care not to alert Lucius.

She wound a curl of hair about one finger as she penned a reply.

_To Lucius Malfoy:_

_I accept your proposed meeting time and place, and add my gratitude for your swift reply. However, there are some finer details that require attention._

_Firstly, Harry and Ron, for quite obvious reasons, must not be allowed to suspect that anything is amiss. We planned a Hogsmeade trip this weekend; this may in fact work to our advantage, as it would be a simple enough matter to slip away and Apparate with Draco to your Manor. Afterwords, I could return to Hogsmeade and find the two boys without any fuss._

_As to the second matter, in my great hope that this alliance will succeed, I believe there should be some record of this relationship agreed on by both parties, that we are each certain of our expected roles. I have already placed your letter in a secure place, along with some additional notes. If you be pleased, I shall bring with me this Saturday materials to preserve the accuracy of our memory for these next months._

_I look forward to our meeting tomorrow._

_Hermione J. Granger_

oOo

Satisfied, Hermione folded the parchment, tipped some nice neutrally-colored plum wax onto the letter, and pressed in her seal. If Lucius Malfoy wanted this deal to go through, he wouldn't risk keeping her too long, knowing that Harry and Ron were expecting her. Furthermore, if something did happen, Lucius Malfoy would be aware that Hermione had documents implicating him; the risk for now would be too great.

Grabbing her bag and books, Hermione left her room. She checked her pocketwatch. Hermione was late. _Plan B then_, she thought.

Hermione ran through the castle, taking the course that led her past Filches office. She paid no attention to Mrs. Norris, who had followed her with accusing yellow eyes and then turned tail to find her master, but when Filtch appeared, Hermione skidded to a normal pace, looking guilty.

'Aha!' Cried Filtch, eyes bulging. 'Improper decorum! Running through the hallways! I'll have you for this one.' Smirking nastily, Filtch mock-bowed Hermione to the direction of his office. 'Let's decide on your punishment, shall we?'

Hermione ducked her head as she walked into the gloomy office, the perfect picture of a contrite student. Inside, she was smiling. Now all she had to do was play her cards right...

'So,' said Filtch loudly, dipping his quill. 'Crime: running through the castle halls, racing another, unknown student, no doubt...left skid marks on the floor, that's another half-hour of cleaning for me...Punishment, hmm. Well, Miss...?'

'Granger, sir,' Hermione said quietly.

'Miss Granger. What do you think your punishment could be?'

'Uh, I could...I could help Professor McGonagall with something?' Hermione suggested brightly. 'Or even Professor Sprout, or Flitwick...' She trailed off. A very pleased, sly smile was slowly spreading over Filtch's bulbous features.

'You would enjoy that, wouldn't you,' he said, narrowing his eyes.

'Sir?'

'Detention tonight. With Professor Snape, perhaps? '

She blanched. 'Sir, please, I think I could help McGonagall much more, and-'

'Snape it is then.' Eyes glittering beadily, Filtch scribbled it on the paper, then thrust it at Hermione. 'Now get out. Enjoy.'

Hermione left quickly. Now she had an excuse to confer with her professor.

She made a quick explanation to Professor Vector for being late; the witch accepted it without question, then handed her a scroll of formulas and calculations the rest of the class was puzzling through. Hermione rummaged in her bag for paper, quill, and ink, and then let her mind be swept away into the confusing, oftentimes nigh impossible to comprehend, world of Arithmancy.

oOo

Harry and Ron commiserated fiercely with her over detention with Snape that supper. 'Your second one this week, Hermione, and you haven't really done anything wrong!' Cried Harry.

'I know,' Hermione sighed. 'But I was running through the halls-'

'Because you were late 'cause you were studying!' Interrupted Ron, shoving an entire drumstick in his mouth. 'Seriously, they're giving you a hard time. Must be out to get you.'

'Yeah, got to be more like us, harder to catch,' winked Harry.

The boys were obviously trying to cheer her up. Hermione forced a smile, and pushed away her half-eaten plate of chicken and rice. 'Thanks, you guys. I should go, I don't want to be late, then I'll get _another_ detention...'

She bid Harry and Ron good night, then headed to the dungeons, fingering the letter from Lucius Malfoy in her pocket.

Snape answer the door almost immediately when she knocked, and Hermione guessed he had been waiting for her.

'Come on,' he said, handing her a black cloak. 'We're going out to gather some Potions ingredients.'

Hermione nodded silently. It made sense-they would have some privacy, and Snape would also be able to replenish his stock. She followed him out to the gate and into the Forbidden Forest.

When he was certain they were alone, Snape turned. In the moonlight, he suddenly looked unnaturally tall, his dark hair fading against the trees. 'You ought to be more careful who you enter the Forest with, Miss Granger.'

'Professor?' Hermione asked.

In answer, Snape made a movement towards her, raising the silver dagger he had brought to cut herbs, except he started when he realized the silver blade was now made of beeswax. He turned his eyes to Hermione.

She chuckled. 'It's okay, Professor. I knew it was you before I followed you.' She waved her wand surreptitiously, watching the blade gleam with sudden silver. 'Did you think I never took the fake Moody's advice? _Constant Vigilance_!'

Snape _hmphed_. 'Well. I'm glad you're taking this seriously. How did you know it was me, anyway?'

'How you move your hands, the pitch of your voice.' Hermione glanced at him sideways. 'And I recognized your mind.'

Snape was aghast. 'You used Legilimency on me? I didn't even feel anything.' He glared at her. 'I never gave you permission,' he accused.

'And if I had?' Hermione reminded him lightly. 'Then you would have had time to project thoughts of being Snape into your mind. Not that it would have worked anyway.'

Her professor seemed shocked and angry in equal parts. But he reigned in his temper admirably. 'You must be a naturally gifted Occlumens. Not that I'm surprised with the Know-It-All Granger.'

Hermione held her tongue.

'But we should come up with a different means of recognizing each other. Any ideas?' He began walking slowly, sharp eyes searching for herbs.

'Legilimency seems to work fine,' Hermione shrugged. 'We can discuss it later if you want. Now, I need to inform you that Lucius and I are meeting for tea tomorrow to discuss a partnership.' She raised her hand to examine some willow bark, before slipping it under her cloak.

'Good. Where?'

'His Manor,' Hermione replied.

She could see a muscle working in his jaw. 'I trust you've taken the necessary safety precautions? Need I remind-'

'I know the risk, Professor,' Hermione answered quietly. 'And I've worked some details out. I'll be fine.'

He took a breath. 'Very well. Can I help with anything?"

'I have it under control, thank you. I expect this will be a short visit, anyway.'

Snape bent to cut wintergreen. 'I'm still not pleased with you taking this on, Miss Granger. But,' he added, seeing her mouth open. 'You've demonstrated clear thinking and decent analytical skills. I'm here to help you bear this burden. Now, help me find some Snorfflegrass...'

oOo

Lucius Malfoy read Hermione's reply letter with great interest. She was very...diplomatic, an ability which he prized very highly. He remembered her from the Ministry. She was calculating, quick and dangerous. He had counted himself lucky to get away more or less unscathed from the young witch. And now..._Now I will guide her on the true path_, he mused. _She has real power, I can show her how to use it_.

His only regret was her blood status...if she had been pure, or even half-blooded, he wonder how much greater her power would be. Still, she was a valuable asset. The Dark Lord would be immensely pleased with him, if things worked out as he hoped.

The next morning saw Lucius awake before dawn, saddling his horse, Bucephalus. He was a highly skilled rider, though few knew it, and he rode often to clear his head. There was a slight chill in the air; Lucius had chosen a dark green cloak to wear over his riding clothes. He fastened it one-handed as he rode, letting his hair blow free.

The Manor was built at the foot of a mountain range. There were many paths winding all through the foothills in the forests, but Lucius Malfoy's favorite led to a quite lake and grove. It wasn't a steep climb, but it took some time to reach the spot, so he had opted instead for a relatively short route that made one gigantic circle around the Manor.

The sun was high in the sky when Lucius slowed to a trot beside a stream. He dismounted, and let Bucephalus have a drink and breather. Thinking to clean the dust from his cheeks, Lucius bent to cup the water. Just as his hands touched the stream, a face appeared in the slow-moving depths. He jumped back, and thought he heard laughter.

'Hello there, Man,' the face said.

Looking closer, Lucius could make out slim limbs and webbed hands. Was it a naiad then?

'Good Afternoon,' he replied, pitching his voice low. A Malfoy trick to sound calm.

There was more laughter. 'Mareska, come see! I think it's him! It's _him_!'

Before Lucius could ask what she was talking about, another face appeared, peering at him from beneath the water. She was older than the first, dark hair flowing gently around sharp features.

'Hmm...' she sighed. 'I suppose he _could_ be...well, you know. Him.' Mareska had a breathy, wandering voice, clear as the water that rippled around her.

'Excuse me,' said an irate Lucius. 'I consider it very discourteous indeed, to discuss someone who is standing right before you. Who is this person you think I am?'

But the naiads, with one last look at him, disappeared under the water, leaving behind only a trace of laughter.

'Wait,' called Lucius. 'I just-' but they were gone. Frustrated, he lingered on the bank for a few moments longer, hoping they'd return. When they didn't, he shrugged, muttered something dark about water nymphs and their mischief, and remounted Bucephalus.

The journey back home seemed to fly by, preoccupied as he was regarding his meeting with Hermione Granger. He handed the reins absently to a groom when he returned, and went to his chambers, to bathe and prepare for tea.

At precisely 4 o'clock, he and Narcissa were waiting in the parlor. Just as the last chime sounded from the Watchtower, the door opened, revealing his son Draco. A young woman followed, unfastening a soft cloak of deep sea blue. She gave a small smile when she saw Lucius and Narcissa, and nodded a greeting. He was pleased to see she handed her cloak and gloves to a house elf without complaint; oh yes, his son had told him all about SPEW.

Following Pureblood courtesy, Hermione Granger dipped a curtsy to his wife, and offered her hand to Lucius to kiss. Her hand was warm and smelled faintly of vanilla and some fugitive blossom from the forest.

'Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for having me.'

'It is our pleasure, Miss Granger. Lucius told me you wished to join the cause. Quite admirable, for one of your...background.'

The young woman didn't bat an eyelash. 'Why, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.' She glanced from Lucius to Narcissa. 'You are both very kind to offer me a chance to join the cause.'

'Yes, they are,' said Draco from behind Hermione. 'Now can we sit down? I'm exhausted.'

Lucius said sharply, '_You_ can go study in the Library, Draco. We have much to discuss.' He nodded to his wife, who made a graceful exit, and gestured to the seats in the parlor.

He kept his eyes on the girl. Lucius was something surprised at her composure; she was perfectly courteous, though stood her ground.

'I trust your journey was uneventful?'

Hermione caressed him with a smile. 'Draco was very welcoming. He told me much history of you Manor.'

'Ah, good,' said Lucius, pleased. 'It is one of the oldest in Britain, you know.'

'Draco said as much,' she said, allowing laughter to creep into her voice.

Lucius, as though his lips were connected by a string, smiled back. 'He ought to be proud; the Malfoys are an old, respected family.'

'A goodly heritage,' Hermione quoted.

'Ah, a beautiful psalm, don't you think?'

'You've read the bible?' asked Hermione, surprised.

'I enjoy classics,' Lucius answered. 'I heard from Draco that you are something of a bookworm?'

Lucius was delighted to see a blush creeping on her cheeks. 'I've always believed knowledge to be the most important endeavor; books are the easiest way to gain it.'

'You are quite right, my dear. I am something of a book lover myself,' he confided. 'It's a marvelous escape from the outside world.'

'Since we're on the subject, would you recommend any books on Dark Magic? I confess my disappointment at the collection in Hogwarts.'

Lucius was just getting started on what seemed to be a promising conversation when the tea arrived. He waved the elf off, and poured some tea for them both, offering Miss Granger some nutbread. Hermione accepted, and Lucius felt a shiver course through him when her fingers brushed his. An interesting alliance indeed.

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Thanks for reading! Leave a review, maybe I'll continue...

:) Vanya


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